Kirkland Signature Chocolate Covered Raisins
by Recognition2
Summary: You raised a nation from the rivers, the mountains and the plains. You built an empire among the trees, looking nowhere but the sky. I was proud of you, and yet I wanted to crush you. Meant to be UsUk but can be read with them as brothers or friends.


_**Originally written: 3/18/14**_

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Brother, why have you forsaken me?

There was a time when you were younger that I remember. I remember it well, better than I can remember my own birthday. It was no more special than any other day in your eyes, but it was at that moment that I realized you truly were my hero. You thought nothing of it, of course - it was a selfless act, and you were fond of them. But in my turmoil, you were my savior.

Those little hands, those tiny pitter-pattery feet, have grown larger than mine. You've grown, you've changed, and yet I...

I search for the past in your eyes.

I'm too oversentimental for my own good. But on that day, seeing you rush toward the afternoon sun, I would have sworn that the reason it turned to dusk was because your eyes captured the color of the sky.

And in my greed, my shallowness, I found something genuine and pure. I found something I could protect, something I wanted to hide away, because I had never loved anything more than I had loved you. But my own corruption was my downfall. I raised my enemy, unknowingly, obliviously blinded by my happiness. I had siblings, but the bonds we forge are stronger than the ones we are bound with by blood. I desired nothing more than to keep you by my side.

My real name is Arthur Kirkland. You do remember, don't you? You've spoken my name hundreds of times, but they have never been _mine_.

That moment was the last you said my name - not the United Kingdom, not Britain, not England, but Arthur. Even on the brink of death, that moment alone remained.

So selfishly, I wished to see you crumble. I didn't think you would make it so far without me. A young man that held little more than the dirt at his feet, the clouds at his head, and ideals on his mind... it was unreasonable, improbable, and still inevitable. You raised a nation from the rivers, the mountains and the plains. You built an empire among the trees, looking nowhere but the sky.

I was proud of you, and yet I wanted to crush you. I wanted you to fail, to crawl back to me and realize that I needed you to need me. I needed to have someone to depend on me, someone I could protect and spoil and care for and live for.

Even when your people tore themselves apart, the north versus the south, I was still occupied with my own hypocritical self-pity. I longed for something I didn't deserve.

I wanted the United States, America - never the man. Never Alfred F. Jones.

I see your attempts at making amends, in your own way, and I'm trying. But I'm afraid I'll never want the man, my friend and my brother. I'm afraid these feelings will never be my own, as a person, as an individual, as myself.

But you're my hero, and you pull me out of the hole I dug for myself - slowly, carefully, easing me out of my own troubles.

We argue, but you always pull through when I need you.

All the nations of the world listen in rapture at your speech. It's a first for many, a wild change from the outrageous and expensive propositions of super robot fighter heroes, but I always knew you had it in you.

For once, I'm genuinely, wholeheartedly proud.

"I'll make fun of your Parliament, and you'll make some racist joke about my boss, but at the end of the day we're a lot more than our governments, you know? A lot more than just a nation. We're people too, just like everyone else. We've got names for a reason!"

And it goes around then, that idea. The idea that we're not just what our countries make us. The encore pleases you.

Alfred, you really are a hero.

At the end of the meeting, only we remain.

"That was a good point you made today."

You seem startled by the compliment, a flush crawling on to your cheeks. You try to cover it up with a cocky smile, but I know you too well.

"Yeah, well... it was the truth, and I'm all for the truth!"

"I know."

Your mouth opens, but your words catch in your throat.

It isn't that you never get me gifts. In fact, considering how my physical condition cripples every July, it's quite likely that you've gotten me even more gifts than I've ever gotten you. So truthfully, I shouldn't have been the least bit concerned when an enormous cardboard box materializes out of nowhere and you shove it into my chest.

But this is you we're talking about. That grin cannot be trusted.

"... What is the meaning of this?"

"What do you mean?" you ask innocently. "It's just a gift. You know, from bro to bro. Romano gives gifts to Italy all the time right?"

"Sure he does."

"Dude, just open the box!"

And I do open it. I find a jar of chocolate covered raisins.

"Ta-da! You like it, right? I dropped a little hint to Costco a few years back, and they finally got busy!" you say with great pride. "Enjoy, Mr. Arthur Kirkland."

You run off then, and I watch you until you turn the corner and away from my sight. I know you'll bound through those doors, into the warmth of the afternoon, and bask in the light of the world. A nation born looking to the sky.

America, the country of freedom.

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**I actually meant for this to be USUK but it fits nicer with them just being bros. Either way, the Special Relationship is pretty awesome. I hope our government doesn't screw it up any time soon. Love you, Britain!  
**


End file.
